It Has to Go
by TrimbyJean
Summary: Rachel chops all her hair off...


**Summary: Rachel has to cut off her long, beautiful hair.**

**A/N: It's amazing how sometimes a haircut is **_**more**_** than a haircut. For example, I've been growing my hair out for the past year and a half simply because the object of my affection prefers girls with long hair, despite my closest friends telling me how much better I look with short, sassy hairstyles. But about two weeks ago, this new guy at my local 24/7 convience store started flirting with me, and I began realizing how insane I've been, letting even little details like my hair be decided by the opinions of this guy who doesn't even seem interested in me. So, today, I chopped it off. It was mid-back length, and now, it's an adorably choppy chin-length bob. And you know what? The new guy I've been flirting with? I went in to grab a soda, and not only did he like it**_**, he reached out and ran his hand through it, telling me how great it looked, and how cute I was**_**. I swear, my toes curled.**

**Sorry, that's my little story. It was almost my own little Puckleberry moment ^^**

**Rating: M, for minor swearing**

**DISCLAIMED**

Rachel and Kurt were walking arm in arm down the hallway, talking excitedly about their upcoming NYADA visit, when it happened. Three football players walking down the hall in the opposite direction hurled slushys at them. Rachel and Kurt squealed in alarm, squeezing their eyes shut to avoid the sting of ice and red dye #7.

They stood in the girls' bathroom a few minutes later, washing their faces off. They weren't even bothering with their clothes- Kurt had a change in his locker, and Rachel could just borrow one of Puck's shirts or his sweatshirt. Rachel was wringing water out of her hair when Kurt lifted a lock, eyes narrowed. "Rachel, you need a haircut."

Rachel clutched her long brunette strands tightly in her hands, eyes widening as she shook her head quickly. "No, I don't."

Kurt sighed, well aware he was entering melodrama territory. If there was one thing Rachel loved almost as much as Broadway, it was her hair. It was soft and shiny and when she left it alone, it hung down her back in natural waves most people would kill for. But Kurt was not budging on this. "Rachel, your ends are completely destroyed. I don't know if it's from a history of constant slushy attacks, or because you used to straighten it every day, but there's no way a simple trim will fix this problem." He rolled his eyes at his best friend, who was inching away from him, her wet hair still clenched in her hands.

"Kurt, I can't cut it. Maybe Santana and Quinn could-"

"They'll only tell you the same thing." His eyes narrowed again. "Why can't you cut it?"

"B-because…" Rachel stuttered, gaze resting everywhere but on her friend, trying to change the subject.

"Rach…" She sighed, reluctantly loosened her hold on her hair, rolling the ends of a few locks between her fingers.

"Noah loves my hair." She said quietly. "He likes pretty girls, girls with long hair."

Kurt wanted to laugh. He'd known his best friend was pretty crazy, but what Rachel was saying was certified insane. Anyone who even so much as glanced at the couple could tell Noah Puckerman was heels-over-head in love with Rachel. Kurt imagined she could be bald and Puck would still love her as much.

"Rachel, I assure you that Puck will still be enamored with you, so much so that it's disgusting." It wasn't; Kurt thought it was adorable and perfect. As much as he loved his brother, Finn had been all wrong for Rachel- far too dopey and naïve. Rachel needed a _man, _someone who could and would handle all her crazy and love her for it, not in spite of it. Noah Puckerman was that man. "But honey, it needs to go." He put an arm around her shoulders and managed to work her hands off of her hair. "Santana, Quinn and I will go to the salon with you to make sure they don't butcher you. I promise; it'll be fine."

And so Rachel found herself at the hair salon that day after school. Noah had been put out when she'd told him Kurt was taking her home, but she promised she'd come over after her outing with Kurt to make it up to him. Santana and Quinn were with her, and the four of them were looking through the various books, trying to find a haircut that would suit Rachel perfectly. Santana enjoyed the horrified looks on both Kurt and Rachel's faces when she suggested a pixie, while Quinn tried to keep Rachel from picking styles that were almost exactly the same as what she currently had.

Finally, the quad settled on an adorable bob, stopping a little past chin length with razored layers that would give her hair body and a flirty tone. She'd gotten rid of her blunt bangs junior year, after the fiasco with Santana and Finn. She hadn't liked them much anyway.

The stylist washed and conditioned her hair, and as Rachel sat in the chair and the stylist was about to make the first cut, she was given one last chance to back out. "Are you sure, hon?" The nice redheaded woman said, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Last chance to say no." Kurt and the girls were in the waiting area, meaning no one could pressure her into saying yes. Rachel thought about all her long hair represented- how she'd kept it long when she dated Finn because Quinn's had been long, and she'd thought her own long hair could somehow make her as pretty as the blonde cheerleader. How she'd super-heated her beautiful locks every morning to straighten them into submission, just because Santana's had been straight, and she'd thought Finn liked that. Her bangs (God, she'd actually hated those things).

She thought about how Noah loved running his fingers through her hair while they made out, and how sometimes he'd tug on the ends to get her attention or just to play with her. How if it was in a ponytail, he'd pull the tie out and massage the spot where the base of her pony had rested, because he didn't need to be told she'd have a headache. How sometimes, when they sat in the back of glee, he'd toy with the ends while his arm rested across her shoulders, his attention on Mr. Schue but that small movement of him curling her strands around his finger letting her know she was never far from his mind.

Rachel looked at herself in the salon mirror, and then at the stylist. "Do it." She squeezed her eyes shut and heard the sharp _snick_ of the scissors. She bit her lip to keep from gasping, and kept her eyes closed through the whole ordeal. The sound of the scissors slowly became less painful, and when the woman took the razor to her layers, it didn't feel as bad as Rachel had thought it would. Her head felt lighter, and Rachel marveled at how much hair could actually weigh for her to feel this… _free_ with it gone. The woman took the hair dryer to it, on low and running her fingers through the strands. Rachel heard bottles opening and closing, and smelled something fruity as the hairdresser ran her hands through her hair. "There you go, hon. All done."

Rachel opened one eye, and then the other, staring at the girl in the mirror. The now chin-length ends of her brown hair curled attractively around her face, framing it. The layers made it look edgy and unique, and her grown-out bangs swooped over one eyebrow. She looked absolutely amazing. She beamed at herself in the mirror, and the stylist smiled as well.

After paying and tipping the hairdresser, and even making an appointment for her next cut, she walked out to the waiting room where her friends sat. Santana was immersed in a gossip tabloid, and Quinn and Kurt were looking at red carpet fashion in another. Rachel cleared her throat and they all looked up.

"Rachel, you look adorable!" Quinn smiled at her friend. Rachel beamed back, clearly happy with it. Kurt nodded his approval, knowing if he tried to speak, he'd simply brag. Santana raised an eyebrow critically.

"Looks good, Berry. I think Puckerman'll like it."

"You don't like it." Rachel stated flatly, standing in front of her boyfriend a few hours later. He was on his bed, resting on his elbows so that his upper body was raised. He was shirtless, having come home after school and immediately taking a nap.

Rachel toyed with the ends of her hair, looking at him warily from under her lashes as he eyed her new look. He rubbed a hand over his mohawk and sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed so that his feet were on the floor. He nodded his head back, indicating that he wanted to her to come closer. Rachel moved forward and stood between his legs, resting her weight against his chest as he ran his hands through her hair and tugged on the ends. As she always did when he put his hands on her, Rachel shivered. Her palms were flat against his bare chest, his skin hot, and she licked her lower lip as she looked at him. Sitting down, he was perfectly eye level with her.

"It's… different." His voice was husky, still sleepy. Her lips quirked downward a little at his comment. He must not like it.

Puck leaned forward and nuzzled her neck with his cheek, and Rachel shivered again. "So you don't like it."

She felt his lips tug upward in what she knew would be a signature Puckerman smirk, and then they were twisting, her falling on the bed on her back with him above her. He braced himself on his forearms to keep his weight from crushing her, and grinned down at her in that lazy way.

"Nah. It's pretty hot. Makes you look even cuter."

Rachel glowed and twined her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly.


End file.
